Godfather Death
by Temujinsword
Summary: A short story based on the fairytale of the same name by the Grimm Brothers ... written from the perspective of Death. All dialogue translated from the origonal German.
1. Chapter 1

It is strange how I have been perceived as an evil force throughout the many long, weary years of my life. It is my curse to be seen like this. Even the most charming, beautiful, wealthy person in the human world would be viewed like I am if they were given my task, my place in life. I am wealthy, in a sense of the word. I have a wealth of knowledge, more than any man could hope for. Of course, no man could live as long as me. I make sure of that.

I take from the living and the dead alike. I take from the rich and the poor without thought for their differences. They are all the same to me.

I am Death.

To me, each day is dull and grey, as lifeless as those I take from the earth when their time comes. Occasionally, there is colour, something which catches the spark of my interest.

For many years, I had watched Friedrich Bauer and his numerous offspring with curiosity. In my lifetime, I have seen many parents with twelve children, yet few have managed to raise all of them and defy me. Not one of his sons or daughters found their way to the Underworld, and their candles burned bright and tall. It hurt my eyes. Herr Bauer was a hard worker, yet struggled for existence. I liked that. People like him usually came into my arms sooner than those who work little and gain much.

Then came the thirteenth child. Thirteen, my favourite number. Of course, a man only has a certain amount of friends to which he can turn to and ask for them to be a Godfather to his children. Herr Bauer had exhausted his supply of associates, and so he made his way to the highway, intending to ask the first man he saw to be the godfather to his newborn son.

What made this man different from the many hard working, child infested peasants like him was that the first person he came across was possibly one of the least likely people to be traipsing along a dusty, half abandoned highway in the middle of the German State. The Good-doer.

Or, as most people refer to him, God. It was a shock to see him on that road. I had seen neither hide nor hair of him for hundreds of years. Whilst I was condemned to a life in the Underworld, he lorded over Heaven. Of course, those that come to my home are either going to go to his, or to Hell sooner or later. Some call me God's servant. I hate that. I may collect the souls of people for him, but I hardly grovel at his feet. People ought to grovel at my feet, so I am not going to give him the honour. I have seen him sort through and choose a select few to go to Heaven where they will be treated well. The rest go to Hell, a place to burn for eternity. So much for forgiveness.

The meeting of God and Herr Bauer was far too interesting for me to miss, so I crouched and watched them. God already knew what the man wanted. Even from my vantage point, high in the clouds, I could see a warm smile slide over his face like the wax from one of my candles. As the two beings faced each other, I was amazed by how different they were. Bauer's cheeks were hollow and shaven, his eyes were dark pools in his skull, surrounded by bruise like marks from sleeplessness. I was reminded of a twig, easily snapped, and easily bent to your will. In comparison, God was plump. Rolls of flesh were wrapped warmly around his body. He had a silky white beard that swirled like the softest of clouds past his chest until it rested on the peak of his mountainous stomach. His head was, unlike his chin, devoid of any hair. It gleamed enthusiastically at the sun as if someone had spent hours polishing it. He stretched out his soft, stubby fingers and rested his hand on the man's shoulder in an overly friendly manner.

"Poor man, I pity you" His voice was like the sinister hiss of a snake. I could almost see it coiling around the man, engulfing him, owning him. I pity you. I am better than you. I am in a position where I can see your pain, yet not feel it myself. My blood boiled and I felt my lips draw back over my teeth in an involuntary snarl. Who was he to pity this man? My ears pricked as I tried to listen to what this serpentine God would say to ensnare Herr Bauer next.

"I will hold your child at his baptism, and care for him, and make you happy on earth." Such promises! He who had sacrificed his own son was now offering to hold the son of a simple peasant.

"Who are you?" asked Bauer, clearly awed at the promises of such a well fed, kindly gentleman.

"I am God" he said arrogantly. I could almost see him stand a little taller and puff out his chest. It did not have a particularly impressive result, although it did succeed in making his stomach seem larger than before.

Then came the reply that I was not expecting, although when it came, my respect for the human who stood below me increased dramatically.

"Then I do not wish to have you for a godfather. You give to the rich, and let the poor starve."

The look on God's face was utterly priceless. His eyes widened in shock, and his jowls drooped comically in a look of horror, yet the man walked around him, and continued on his way, either unaware, or uncaring of the rebellious move he had just made against the creator.


	2. Chapter 2

When I saw the next person Herr Bauer came to, I gleefully thought to myself that the man was extraordinarily unlucky that day. There, swaggering towards him, his scaly skin as red as ever was the Devil. His face was set in a permanent sadistic smirk that made his nose, chin and wit seem sharper than ever. Like God, he too was completely bald, although the similarities ended there. As if the bloodlike hue of his skin was not enough to single him out as the symbol of immorality, wicked horns protruded from his forehead. They were as menacingly curved as his flexing fingers and as pale as his eyes, which were not quite white, but sufficiently close to it to make it seem like he had no iris' in his eyes at all.

Herr Bauer and the Devil continued walking until they were facing each other. The Devil bowed, deep and extravagantly, mocking the man before him with his cruel sarcasm. The peasant had never been bowed to before. As the Devil straightened himself, his smile widened.

"If you will take me as your child's godfather, I will give him an abundance of gold and all the joys of the world as well." He sounded as pompous as God, yet with a cruel edge that God could never achieve.

The man seemed taken aback by the offer, yet kept his tone steady and measured as he asked the same question as he had asked God.

"Who are you?"

"I am the Devil" announced the crimson being, clearly offended that the man had not recognised him.

"Then I do not wish to have you for a godfather. You deceive mankind and lead them astray." He walked off. I was somewhat disgruntled by his refusal to accept the Devil. After all, seeing a child raised by the most legendary nonconformist that had ever existed would have provided considerable entertainment. It seemed I would be deprived of the fun of watching that drama unfold, but an idea slowly seeped into my mind, like an invasive fog.

Surely I, who had watched this family for so long, who distained the ways of both God and the Devil could be a suitable godfather for this thirteenth child? I think that I probably was suitable, in Herr Bauer's opinion, although my plan twisted and curled until I realised that in truth, Herr Bauer could not choose a less suited godfather if he wanted to. His refusal of the Devil's offer had deprived me of fun, and so I would make my own game. Mortals are mere playthings to Death. And so it was that Herr Bauer's luck shrunk. Perhaps though, it was better for I, Death, stepped onto the road ahead of him.

I did not walk towards the man as the others had done, but I waited on the roadside whilst he made his way towards me. I have no need to hurry. It is men that need to go as fast as they can, because they do not know the height of their candles. I do not care. I have no candle, for I am immortal. Eventually, Herr Bauer reached me, and I inclined my head slightly as a sign of honest respect. No fancy bowing from me. He returned my greeting, noticing my crippled, shrunken legs.

When the world was created, I was given the gift of metamorphosis. However, as a cruel jest, our mighty, merciful creator did not give me the power to make myself appear healthy or beautiful. In my younger years, I was livid at my hideous curse, but as the years trickled by, I cared little for my looks. Only those who had fallen into the neverending chasm of dispair or the most twisted of beings could love Death.

But Herr Bauer was as emancipated as I was, although not from some incomplete holy gift, but from hard work and bad food. He would care little for my hollowed cheeks, my withered arms, stooped back or claw like hands. On the outside, we were as brothers.

"Take me as your child's godfather." I said in a soft voice that made the human strain to hear me.

"Who are you?" The man asked, his voice weary with hopelessness.

"I am Death, who makes everyone equal." I replied, giving him the answer he had both hoped for, and dreaded.

I could see his mind working over what I had just told him, his thought running like string in deft, but tired fingers. Then he spoke, his voice as quiet as my own, yet with an air of triumph.

"You are the right one. You take away the rich as well as the poor, without distinction. You shall be my child's godfather."

I was hardly surprised by his answer. I have spend thousands of years watching the humans, making it possible to predict their every move. I smiled, hoping that the man would not mistake my happiness for an evil smirk, although considering my plans for his newborn child, perhaps a smirk would be expected.

"I will make your child rich and famous." I allowed the smile to slide from my face as I tried to remain serious. It was happening, my game had started. "He who has me for a friend cannot fail."

I went to the baptism. I arrived on time. I held the child. And then I returned to my candles, and waited.


	3. Chapter 3

Waiting is as effortless as lying for the immortal. The boy grew quickly, although no doubt it felt like eternity to one so young, so fragile. Everyone said that Otto Bauer was a good young man who would grow to be something great. I never disputed that. Before I knew it, he was of age. The time had come to take the next step in the game.

"Come for a walk with me, my godson." I made the command sound like an invitation.

As if he were my own child, he followed obediently. He had never been as fearful of me as others were. He thought I would protect him, and I did. I was the godfather that Otto's father had dreamed of. We strode into the woods in companionable silence. Although I was shrunken and ancient looking, the younger man had to exert himself to keep after me, his breath forcing its way out of his mouth in rasping gasps. My own mouth remained firmly shut. The towering trees channelled the light into heavenly spotlights that lit up the thick foliage that carpeted the ground like the moss on the trees. I stopped suddenly, suppressing a smirk as Otto immediately followed suit. He rested his hands of his knees, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. I ignored him, and reached down to caress the leafy green herb that crawled across the earth. With a brisk flick of my thin wrist, I snapped the stem and held the leaf up to my steadily recovering godson.

"Now you shall receive your godfather's present. I will turn you into a famous physician. Whenever you are called to a sick person I will appear to you. If I stand at the sick person's head, you may say with confidence that you can make him well again. Then give him some of this herb and he will recover. But if I stand at the sick person's feet, he is mine and you must say that he is beyond help, and that no physician in the world could save him. But beware of using this herb against my will, or something very bad will happen to you."

My warning may have made more cautious men distrust my loyalty to them, but Otto was not cautious. A wide smile rose on his face like the sun as he realised the riches, fame and status that could be achieved with my help. It seemed that his father had made a good decision.


	4. Chapter 4

And so time passed again. I watched over the years as Otto became extraordinarily wealthy, even for the standards of a physician. He was famous too, any fool could see that. His fame had ventured out of Germany many years ago, drawing the sick and injured to him, all seeking the same thing; the herb I had given him, and the assurance of life. Not a day passed when I was not summoned to stand by a patient. Coins and favours were bestowed upon Otto, each time making him stand a little taller and puff out his chest.

The game was going well. No man is immune to such admiration, and I could almost see his self esteem increase with each patient, and with it, his arrogance. Yes, the game was going well.

Otto was moving up in the world. He was surprised when a summons was received from the King. As I move in all circles, I knew of the King's illness, although it was not public knowledge. I knew not only that, but his fate, and how my godson would react. These next few days, I reasoned with myself, would be very interesting. As soon as we arrived at the castle, Otto was ushered by frantic servants into the Kings chambers, I followed, invisible to all but the young physician. Once the dull and somewhat flustered formalities were over, Otto began to examine the King. I knew my cue, and stepped forwards to show the fate of the King.

I stood at his feet.

My godson fixed me with a look that would have people questioning his sanity if he was not so venerated. We both knew that no herb could help the eminent man that lay between us. The King would die.

I watched Otto intensely, knowing his next move before he knew it himself. After a few moments of careful deliberation, he slid his arms under the Kings body, and lifted him. Some of the assembled servants and family members moved forwards, unsure of what the young man would do. I was not so unsure. He spun the man around so that I was standing at the head of the King. The King would live.

Otto quickly gave the sickly ruler some of my herbs, and promised his good health. My godson left in good spirits, pleased with making a good impression in the royal household, yet I could see that he was cautious, aware that he had deceived me. I cared little for the life of a King though. I have taken greater men I my time. Emperors, warlords, Rajahs and Khans, all fall into my arms eventually. No man can live forever.

I was secretly delighted with Otto's decision. He was doing exactly what I wanted and exactly what I expected. He was playing the game. Forcing down a rising feeling of glee, I controlled my features, forming a formidable look of ferocity. Even strong men quake in Death's wrath. I chose my moment well. As soon as the road was clear, I turned on my godson.

"You have betrayed me." I hissed at him, watching as he shrank away from my anger. "I will overlook it this time because you are my godson, but if you dare do it again, it will cost you your neck, for I will take you yourself away with me."


	5. Chapter 5

Not long afterwards, the king's daughter developed the same illness. I was, naturally, curious, and went to see her on her sick bed. When I saw her lying inert on the same bed that the king had almost died in, I realised that the rumours of her beauty were true. The hair that fell around her shoulders was like sheaves of golden wheat. Her skin was unblemished and although it was deathly pale and clammy, it was clear to me that it would be soft and rosy if she was in good health. Her eyes were lightly closed, but I had heard that they were the deepest of blues. Had I been a young man, my heart would have ached. But I was no young man; I had no aching heart or sentimental feelings. I am Death, and Death shows no remorse.

I had hardly noticed the King sitting on a simple stool in the corner. Tears ran down his washed out face, dark smudges sat under his pain filled eyes and he rocked back and forth. The Princess was his only child. I had seen enough, the Princess would fit my plan and my game would continue.

Only two days after my unseen visit to the Royal Castle, it became known throughout the Kings lands that the hand of the stunningly beautiful princess and eventually the title of King would be given to whichever man cured his daughter. When Otto heard, his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. He was greedy, I could see that. Many would have thought he would have been more than content with the wealth that he had already accumulated. But this was Otto Bauer, the man who always wanted further riches and glory.

Greed was something that I could work with. It was like putty in my capable hands, easily moulded to suit my wishes. My godson had grown to be the man I had wanted him to be.

I encouraged him to go to see the Princess. I hardly needed to. Before I had finished my rallying speech on how proud I would be of him if he inherited the throne, he was packed and making his way to the door.

The journey was long, yet it took up such a smaller part of my life than it did Otto's. I was silent for most of the way, but my godson babbled excitedly about the new prosperity and titles that would be bestowed on him when he cured the Princess. I do not think that it ever even entered his simple mind that I might stand at the golden haired girl's feet. He was too vain to think that. I would bow to his every need; after all, he was my godson and I had forgiven him for his tricking me out of the life of the King. But I am a free being. I do as I wish, and no man can command me.

The Princess was in an even worse state when we arrived. She was shivering violently while sweat poured from her fevered brow. Even then, Otto stared at her in wonderment, although no doubt her astounding good looks were not the only alluring feature. Yes, my godson had fallen for the Princess, or at least the titles and riches that her father had promised. I could see Otto stifle an assertive smirk as his eyes drifted confidently towards me. Taking that as a cue to take my place, I moved, although not in the direction that my godson wanted.

I smiled ruefully to myself. Life is hard.

The smirk fell from Otto's face like a rock from a cliff. His mouth opened slightly as he glanced at the Princess once more. Yes! I was to be triumphant. No one could say that I had tricked my godson, for he had betrayed me once, and I had warned him. Now he would do it once more and he would be mine! The game was heating up.

Admittedly, the games I played with the lives of mortals were not as fun as they had once been. I had not always been as good at predicting the moves of my playthings, but practice makes perfect, and now the main fun of my little games was to predict their moves, and twist their minds.

Otto reached out to the Princess as I had expected. She was lighter than the King and he lifted her with ease, turning her so that I was standing at the yellowed haired princess. I decided to play my part well and assumed a vicious glare, lifting my fist and shaking it threateningly as an extravagant extra. Not that Otto noticed, he was busy feeding the King's daughter my herbs. We both watched as colour returned to her pallid cheeks, she stopped her shivering and her temperature lowered.


	6. Chapter 6

I left the room and waited for my godson. I, unlike him, had all the time in the world. When he emerged, cautiously triumphant from the sickroom, I strode towards him, wrapping my icy fingers around the collar of his tunic and hauled him beside me.

"Now it is your turn." I snarled at the terrified physician.

I heard him make sporadic choking noises. I loosened my grip slightly before I suffocated him, giving the young man a false sense of security. I cared little for his wellbeing, I never had. No, I wanted him alive so that I could show him Death's little secret. The secret that would be his, and everyone else's end. Otto followed obediently as I towed him down a flight of steep, narrow stairs into my vast underground cavern. His eyes widened as he saw the millions of candles that burned in ordered rows, illuminating the damp stone walls and roof with a flickering amber glow.

Some of the candles towered over smaller ones, whilst some were tall enough to hold their own, yet were not tall enough to be noticeable. As Otto watched, a tiny candle next to him was extinguished, smoke rising in flowing coils like the last frosted breath of a dying man. As it did so, the wick of a tall, unlit candle that stood solidly beside it burst into flame, a sudden flare of brilliance before it settled into a regular flame that would slowly burn for years. This scene was repeating itself through the cavern, the dying candles filling the air with acrid smoke. I eyed one of the smallest candles that stood on my ledge close to me. It was nearly time.

"See," I faced Otto, "these are the life-lights of mankind. The large ones belong to children, the medium sized ones to married people in their best years, and the little ones to old people. However, even children and young people often have only a tiny candle."

The young physician listened intently, clearly under the impression that this was a lesson that would benefit him in future years.

"Show me my life-light." He demanded. I could tell that he was still the vain optimist that I had taught him to be.

With a sigh, I gestured to the small candle that had held my attention earlier. It had begun to waver, threatening to go out.

"Oh! Dear godfather, light a new one for me. Do it as a favour to me, so that I can enjoy my life, and become king and the husband of the beautiful princess." Even in his last few moments, Otto was surprisingly confident, confident that I would forgive him, confident that he would not die. He was wrong.

"I cannot." I replied simply. "One must go out before a new one is lighted."

"Then set the old one onto a new one that will go on burning after the old one is lighted." He sounded distressed now as he begged me for his life. But Death does not give new chances to anyone. Death gives only the end.

Reaching into my copious cloak, I produced a new, unused candle and leaned it towards the old candle, which was now dangerously low. I tensed my body, making my hands shake as a frantic Otto watched. My fingers slipped, and the still unlit new candle tumbled from my hands. I scraped at the floor, my long fingernails scratching marks in the dust. Eventually, after much exaggerated cursing, I drew myself up, brandishing the life-saving candle and smiled at my godson, giving him false hope.

Quite suddenly, his face twitched in a way that would have alarmed any other man but Death. His hand convulsively clutched his chest as his knees crashed to the floor. His breath started coming out in harsh rasps and I eventually allowed my angry expression to leave my face and replaced it with a genuine smile. The smile of Death is probably more dangerous than his scowl.

Then Otto collapsed onto the floor, his legs kicking out spontaneously and his eyes met mine for a moment, meeting my savage glee with one of horror. And then the ugly breathing stopped. The candle fell from my hand and rolled off his immobile face before silently settling on the floor.

The game was won.

* * *

We all have our little games. Each of my pieces are so convinced that they are more important than they actually are. They are not important. They slip in and out of life so quickly that it is as if they had never existed.

As for me, I will endure the centuries alone, yet surrounded by others. My existence would be barely worth the effort if it was not for the creative little beings that roam the earth as they plot, dream, work and cry. And then they die.

Only Death can live forever.


End file.
